


cadillacs in our dreams

by starvalisedham



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-03 05:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11525502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvalisedham/pseuds/starvalisedham
Summary: The role of Japan’s Imperial Family is purely ceremonial nowadays, but that doesn’t stop the Imperial Household Agency from making archaic decisions affecting Katsuki Yuuri’s dime a dozen life.“Me?” Yuuri asks incredulously. “The Emperor wants to adopt me?”“As you are well aware, the Imperial family is experiencing a succession crisis…”“No, I am not aware? Because my entire life consists of ice skating and ballet and sometimes school?”“…the Katsuki family is a former Princely House of the Blood until sixty years ago, and you happen to be the best candidate we have in becoming the crown prince.”“I can’t lead a group project at school to save my life - to save my grades, even! The Emperor can’t possibly think I’ll be suitable to rule the entire country of Japan!”As it turns out, the Emperor can do whatever he wanted. He was the Emperor, after all.AKA where various people say ‘really yuuri, get a grip on yourself’ on a regular basis.





	1. the one where there are revelations and rejections

**Author's Note:**

> full disclosure, this fic's working title is "FIRST FORAY INTO #VIKTUURI FANFIC (IT’S A ROYALTY AU GUYS)"
> 
> i came up with this idea during an Anne Hathaway marathon and honestly, guys, the fandom needed to see Yuuri as Princess Mia

Katsuki Yuuri was an ordinary boy born to an ordinary family in an ordinary part of Kyushu, Japan. He goes to an ordinary school, has ordinary friends, and has ordinary hopes and dreams.

“I want to skate competitively after graduation,” he tells his friend Yuuko one day after school. 

Okay, so Yuuri’s hopes and dreams were far from ordinary. At the age of fourteen, he has managed to cultivate his hobbies and free time to accommodate this single goal: he spends weekday afternoons on the ice practising with his friends Yuuko and Takeshi, while on alternating nights he takes ballet lessons from Minako Okukawa, his mother’s dear friend from school. On Saturdays, he runs to the Buddhist temple on the other side of town, and on Sundays he catches up on any ice skating news he might have missed in the week. It's the only time he has access to the family computer.

“Isn’t eighteen too old to start a competitive career?” asks Yuuko. They were walking together towards Hasestsu’s only ice rink, but they were taking their time since Takeshi was supposed to walk with them and was running late.

(“His class has clean up duty this week,” Yuuko recalls, saying as much to Yuuri as they push through the mass exodus of students in the school hallways.)

“I don’t mean high school, Yuuko. I mean when we finish this year. Wouldn’t it be great if I can qualify for the junior nationals? What if I win and get a winner's  certificate? What if I get invited to take part in the Grand Prix because I impressed the judges so much?”

Yuuko smiled at the look on yuuri’s face. It was pure, unbridled hope. “Out of you, Takeshi and myself, you’re the most likely to earn a spot on the podium. For any competition.”

A smattering of pink dances over Yuuri’s cheeks. “You really think so?”

Yuuko paused in her walking, forcing Yuuri to do the same. She placed a hand on top of Yuuri’s head; she was still taller than him at this stage, but she knew that he will outgrow her at some point in the future. Yuuri’s father was a tall man, after all. “Listen, Yuuri.You’re hard-working and dedicated and persistent. If you want something badly enough, I know you’ll do anything to _make it come true_.”

“You really think I can podium at national events?”

“At the skill level you are right now? Maybe not. But Yuuri? You have the potential to become so much more.” She leans closer to show how serious her next words are. “I can see you winning gold medals, Yuuri-kun.”

The boy grins and shakes her hand off of his head. “I think you can win too, Yuu-chan! Your jumps are better than all the other skaters at the rink!”

“That’s a lie and you know it, Yuuri!”

Surprised, both Yuuri and Yuuko turned their heads back towards the school. They grinned when they saw Takeshi jogging towards them, his school bag bouncing happily on his back. He slows down once he’s within talking (and not shouting) distance.

“My jumps are better than Yuuko’s,” he says between gasps. “Just ask anybody.”

Yuuko laughed in response; Yuuri narrowed his eyes. “Only technically. Yuuko’s potential program components scores are much higher than yours could ever be.”

“And Yuuri-kun throws any attempts I do out of the water,” Yuuko quips, mock-glaring at her two friends. “Now that we’re all here, we should run to the rink. Let’s go!”

Ice Castle Hasetsu was only thirty minutes away from the junior high school, but the three friends manage to make it there in fifteen. The building’s facade was nothing to brag about, with a plain sign and plain paint job and an even plainer interior design. Yet, the timeworn building was clearly well-loved by the town, as shown by the bi-weekly beginner's skating lessons and the rotating voluntary workers from the community center that help run the rink.

“Good afternoon, you three!” greeted old Mrs. Yamada from behind the counter. Already, she has two rental skates for Yuuko and Takeshi.

"Good afternoon,” the three echoed. “Thank you for the skates,” continued Takeshi, grabbing both pairs and handing the smaller sized one to Yuuko.

“Don't forget to have fun today!"

“I can’t believe your parents bought you your own skates,” Yuuko comments as they make their way towards the lockers. “And they’re competitive grade, too! My parents refuse to buy me one until my feet stop growing.”

Takeshi looks up from where he’s stuffing his school bag into a lower-level locker. “But your feet won’t stop growing any time soon?” he says in confusion. “You’re a growing teenager?”

“I know!” Yuuko kicks off her school shoes and points one of them at yuuri. “You don’t know how lucky you are, Katsuki Yuuri.”

Yuuri mumbles something incomprehensible and makes a show of placing his things into an empty locker. “I’ll see you two on the ice!” he says loudly before leaving for the changing rooms.

Replies of agreement chorused from his two friends. Once Yuuri was well out of earshot, Takeshi pokes Yuuko on the cheek and says, “You know how he gets whenever you do that.”

“Whenever I do what?” Yuuko dodged another poke, a small pout playing on her lips. “He knows I’m only teasing!”

“Yeah, but does it stop him from running away like that?” Takeshi sighs. “I’ll see you on the ice.”

Yuuko grins as she tucks her own things into the nearest empty locker. “You’re a good friend, Takeshi-kun!” she shouts after him as he follows Yuuri into the men’s changing rooms.

(*·∀·*)人(*·∀·*)

Yuuri comes home that night to the enticing smell of his mother’s katsudon and his father’s loud voice entertaining the few guests still staying at the common areas. The Katsuki family run a very successful hot springs inn called an onsen, providing hot spring access to the public during the day and round-the-clock access for the inn’s overnight guests.

“I’m home!” he calls into the room, happily slipping out of his shoes.

"Welcome back, Yuuri!” greeted his father, along with a few guests. A lone drunkard from one of the far tables raises a shot of sake in lieu of speaking.

“Is that Yuuri?” Yuuri’s mother asks as she enters the room carrying a tray of food. From his place across the room, Yuuri spots a bowl of katsudon, a serving of miso soup, and a small bowl of pickled vegetables.

“I'm home, okaa-san,” Yuuri says as he makes his way towards the nearest empty table. He sinks to the floor and sits on his feet. “Thank you for the food.”

“Here you go, dear.” She settles the food on the table top and fetches a pair of chopsticks from her apron. “How was school today?”

“School was okay,” Yuuri answered between mouthfuls of breaded pork cutlets and rice. “I got a 97 on yesterday’s math quiz, and sensei assigned a group project for history class.”

“That’s great, dear. How about practice? Did Yuuko and Takeshi walk with you to Ice Castle?”

“They always do, okaa-san. Practice was good, too. My spins are getting tighter, but my jumps can still do with more work.”

Yuuri’s older sister Mari, who happened to be passing by in the hallways outside the common area, poked her head through the doorway and said, “Your jumps are always needing work, Yuuri!”

Without missing a beat, Yuuri grabs a nearby zabuton and throws it at her. It misses the intended target by an impressive distance.

“Mari, stop teasing your brother,” their father warned. Any gravitas was lost, however, as one of the guests offered him a whole bottle of sake. Where the sake bottle came from, no one quite knew.

“Minako-sensei says my pointe work is getting better. She wants me to come in at an earlier time tomorrow to practice some more.” Yuuri leans back to transition from sitting seiza into a more relaxed position. “I don’t think my feet will ever recover from pointe work.”

His parents mutter some encouraging words, their love for their son obvious but their lack of understanding when it comes to his hobbies quite apparent. Minutes pass as Yuuri digs into his evening meal wholeheartedly, the general din of the busy common area a perfect soundtrack to his thoughts as he surveyed the past day in his head. He probably should have paid more attention in history class, given that he had no idea what to do for group work…

"Here,” he hears Mari’s voice before something lands on his lap. It was the small jar of muscle relaxant from the inn's first aid kit.

“Mari-neechan, I’m not supposed to use the inn’s first aid supplies. I have my own to use in my room, you know.”

Mari snorts and nudges Yuuri’s one leg sticking out underneath the table. “Shut up and take the peace offering, will you? By the way, someone called the inn this morning asking for you.”

“Who was it?”

“Don’t know, didn’t ask. Sounded overly polite, though.” Mari shrugged. “I ended up giving the phone to okaa-san. Anyway, you need to take the morning off school tomorrow. This mystery person is paying a visit and she wants to talk to you. It sounded important.”

For some unfathomable reason, in Yuuri’s heart of hearts, he was hoping that this mystery woman was some kind of coach offering to take him on as a student so that he can have podium finishes at any and all ice skating competitions throughout Japan. He knew it couldn’t be true, but he wanted to hope regardless.

“Okay, I’ll let Yuuko know I won’t be in school until lunchtime.”

Mari gives Yuuri a look, probably at the weird dreamy sparkle in his eyes the second he started thinking about skating coaches. “You should finish eating,” she says finally. “You’re a growing teenager.”

Yuuri snorts, thinking back to Yuuko and Takeshi that afternoon at Ice Castle. “Aren’t we all, Mari-neechan?”

Mari grunts and leaves the common area, muttering about ungrateful younger brothers as she walked away.

(*·∀·*)人(*·∀·*)

The next day finds the entire Katsuki family sitting in their living room, in an area of the inn reserved only for their family’s personal use. It was the only room, aside from the bedrooms, that was not traditionally authentic. Gone were the smooth tatami mats and the low-lying tables he was familiar with at home. Yuuri felt mildly discomfited every time he enters the room, even more so when there is a stranger sitting on his mother’s armchair. 

“Thank you for visiting us today, Yamamoto-san,” Yuuri heard his father greet the stranger. She was wearing a pristine business suit and despite her youthful looks, her eyes and the set of her lips indicated that she had seen too much and was not a woman to be trifled with. She certainly didn't look like a skating coach. Yuuri felt his heart sink. “I hope your journey has been well.”

Yamamoto-san inclined her head demurely. “I appreciate your concern, Katsuki-san.”

“Please, call me Toshiya-san. We’re all family here.”

Yuuri valiantly tries to hide this reaction to that revelation. Family? He didn’t know they had family outside of the immediate members here in Hasetsu. There might have been some distant relative currently living in Tokyo, but they were most likely social relatives rather than by blood. His parents called their old friends with families of their own as oji-san or oba-san, purely to accommodate Yuuri and Mari when they were younger children.

“And please,” Yuuri’s mother adds from the corner where she is preparing tea, “call me Hiroko. We don’t stand my formality here. Not anymore!”

As tea was served to everyone in the room (even Mari, who hated the bitterness of pure matcha), the real reason why Yamamoto-san was visiting began in earnest. Yuuri shifted underneath the woman’s gaze. It wasn’t steely or cold by any means, but it still managed to make Yuuri sweat underneath his school jacket.

“You attend the local junior high school?” Yamamoto-san asked, peering at Yuuri’s striped tie. It was crookedly set, not that Yuuri was aware of that fact.

“Yes,” he stammered. “I go to Hasetsu Junior High School. I’ll be graduating this summer.”

“Graduating with high honors, I hope?” Before Yuuri could respond otherwise (he’s hardly the smartest person in his year), Yamamoto-san asked, “Tell me, Yuuri. Have you thought about your future at all?”

“My future?” he repeats, not knowing what else to do. The only thing running through his mind was the sharp sounds of blades gliding over ice, the snicks and muffled swishes of a skater beginning and landing a jump, the chorus of a beautifully executed skating sequence. “I’ve thought about high school,” he says in the end. From beside him, he hears Mari smother a snort. She knows Yuuri barely thought about school beyond passing his classes to their parents’ standards; Yuuri had barely thought about high school, not even the entrance exams he had to take soon before graduation.

“Hm,” Yamamoto-san pursed her lips. “It does not do well to lie, Yuuri. Take this lesson to heart.”

Yuuri swore he stopped breathing and started hyperventilating at the same time.

“I like ice skating,” Yuuri croaks out. “I want to skate competitively in the future. I don’t think about the future much unless it’s about that. If I could, I'd train every day but I know I can’t really do much without a proper coach.” He glances at his mother. She gives him comforting smile. “Minako-sensei, my ballet teacher, promised to look into the JSF rules and regulations to see if I can enter some of the low-level competitions this upcoming season. I am hoping she will bring good news next time I see her.”

Yamamoto-san’s expression did not change, but Yuuri refused to be cowed into shame when it comes to his favourite sport. “The JSF?” she asked.

“It’s the Japan Skating Federation. They’re in charge of everything to do with ice skating. In Japan, at least.”

“Well, Yuuri, I’m glad to see some drive in you. Courage, too, is always nice to see in young people these days. You’ll need it for what I’m about to tell you.”

Despite all logical reasoning, a small voice at the back of Yuuri’s head replayed his thoughts from last night. Despite appearances, what if Yamamoto-san really was an ice skating coach? Yuuri didn’t think he could actually work well with her, but it’s not like coaches were knocking on his door begging to be his. Yuuri braced himself for the news.

“Katsuki Yuuri,” Yamamoto-san said, tone very much foreboding, “Emperor Naruhito of the Chrysanthemum Throne wishes to adopt a son from the Imperial family’s former princely houses. The Katsuki family is one of these aforementioned houses and as the Katsuki son closest to the age of majority - as the only Katsuki son, in fact - I am pleased to offer you this distinct privilege.”

Yuuri gaped at Yamamoto-san. She was speaking to him, but the words she was saying were not registering in his brain. She might as well not be speaking Japanese.

“Adoption?” he heard his mother ask, the waver in her voice unchallenged in its clarity.

“Of course we will not take him from you,” Yamamoto-san says, her voice crisp and clear in its soothing delivery. “Yuuri will continue to stay here in Hasetsu while he continues his compulsory education.”

“Hang on a second,” interrupted Mari. “Compulsory education is only until fifteen years of age!”

“By compulsory, I do mean until he finishes all possible levels of education. We can’t very well have an heir to the Imperial throne who does not hold a bachelor’s degree. Yuuri will continue on to college, but I’m afraid he must go to the best Japan can offer, which happens to be Tokyo. Or abroad,” she smiles at Yuuri, who at this point had only started to understand the foreign words slipping from the woman’s lips. “Yuuri, you can study in Europe or America, if you wish to.”

But Yuuri didn’t want to think about college.He was fourteen years old. He wanted to skate in JSF sanctioned competitions and perhaps win a few skating accolades.

“Yuuri,” Mari turns to him, face the most serious it has ever been. “I think this lady is serious. The Emperor wants to adopt you.”

“Me?” Yuuri asks incredulously. His eyes were wild with the possibility of the idea. “The Emperor wants to adopt me?” He turns to look at Yamamoto-san. Something in his gaze must have softened the woman somehow, because she smiled - a real, genuine one this time.

“As you are well aware,” she says, voice soft, “the Imperial family is experiencing a succession crisis —“

“No, I am not aware? Because my entire life consists of ice skating and ballet and sometimes school?”

“Nevertheless, the Katsuki family is a former princely house of the blood until sixty years ago, and you happen to be the best candidate we have in becoming the crown prince. The Emperor personally chose you himself.”

“Yamamoto-san, I can’t lead a group project at school to save my life - to save my grades, even! I think I’m failing History class. The Emperor can’t possibly think I will be suitable to rule the entire country of Japan!”

A heavy pause followed Yuuri’s declaration. Somehow, he had ended up on his feet, the tip of his tie dipping into his unfinished mug of tea. He needed to think, to process what had just happened. Bowing deeply, he addressed his shoes as he mumbled something about needing to be in school. As he closed the living room door behind him, he could hear his mother - his sweet, even-tempered mother - throwing a few choice words at Yamamoto-san. He really didn't want to go home tonight.


	2. the one where business negotiations happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have another unbeta'd chapter, guys! *kazoo noises*

Yuuri refused to go home that night, instead choosing to stay so late in Minako’s ballet studio that the woman offered him the use of her guest bedroom. 

“It’s not much,” Minako says as she fetches her spare futon set from the cupboard. She spies a worn out onigiri plushie that has seen better days and decides to grab that, too. “But anything for our future Emperor.”

Yuuri sighed from his reclined position on the tatami floor. “Did okaa-san tell you what happened this morning?” He barely reacts when Minako drops the onigiri plushie on his face.

“Yuuri, I’ve known about this secret nobility business every since your mother and I were young girls. I didn’t actually think it would affect you like this, though.” Conversation paused as Minako prepared the futon set around Yuuri’s stationary body. “Didn’t you ever question why your father took your mother’s name?”

Yuuri didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead, he stuck with his reliable mantra: “I’m fourteen years old. All I ever wanted to do was skate.” He can’t seem to think of anything else, this past few hours.

From her perch on the other side of the futon spread, Minako gave Yuuri an unamused look. “You’ll be fifteen this year and you wanted to be a prima ballerina up until the age of nine. Get a grip on yourself, kiddo.”

Yuuri dislodged the onigiri plushie as he bodily turned to face Minako. Incidentally, he also ended up on top of the futon. The surface was cold to the touch, but the pastel floral pattern was nice to look at. “What do you think I should do, sensei?” he all but pleaded.

“I think you and the other Katsukis need to talk. This entire adoption business is going to change your life trajectory… so very drastically, Yuuri-kun. But think about Japan’s future, too. Think about the legacy.” Minako moved, without standing up, towards where Yuuri’s head was positioned; the movement involved vaguely imitating a gorilla walking on its knuckles, but Minako imbued the action with as much natural grace as possible. “Yuuri-kun,” she said, prodding him on the forehead with her index finger. “I know you don’t pay much attention in History class, but I know you know that Japan has the oldest continuing hereditary monarchy in the entire world. You wouldn’t want to get in the way of that, would you?”

Minako left soon after dropping that bomb - only it wasn’t really a bomb since yes, Yuuri was fully aware of Japan’s history regarding the monarchy. He had researched as much as he could about it the second he entered school property earlier this morning. (He also skipped his morning classes, not daring to show his face to anyone until the lunchtime bell rang, but that’s neither here nor there.) In the end, Yuuri slept fitfully during the night, dreaming about skating, about executing jump after jump and earning one of the highest scores in Japanese history, only to be disqualified because he had no last name. Of all things.

“The Crown Prince of Japan cannot be the World champion,” an ageing, faceless man says in Yuuri’s dream. “He does not have a last name.”

Yuuri woke up the next morning, tears running down his face as his arms reached for a gold medal he could never have. He avoids home for the entire week, staying at both Yuuko’s and Takeshi’s houses when he had overstayed his welcome at Minako’s. Yuuko’s family accepted Yuuri’s presence without much preamble, offering him their guest bedroom - this time with an actual bed rather than a futon set - while Takeshi’s family were a little more concerned.

“My dad’s asking why you haven’t returned home yet,” Takeshi asks him on Sunday night as they were preparing for bed. His family didn’t have a spare bedroom, so Yuuri was relegated to the floor with Mr. Nishigori’s sleeping bag. It smelled like moth balls and what he thought must be a scent unique to the 1980s, but he didn’t complain. It was better than spending the night in his own bedroom. 

“Did my dad ask your dad to ask you that?” countered Yuuri from inside the sleeping bag. “Also, are you dressed by now? This bag smells too much like camp.”

“You’ve never gone camping in your life, Yuuri.”

“Neither have you!”

“At the rate you're going, you’re going to have to consider camping. Why are you avoiding home? If I lived by an onsen I would never ever leave.” 

“No amount of onsen minerals would ever fix your face, Takeshi.” The boy snorted as he pointedly stepped on Yuuri’s feet on the way to his own bed. “I’m coming out of the bag now. If you’re not even halfway decent I’ll run straight back to Yuuko’s and tell her you’re terrorising young impressionable boys.”

Takeshi laughed. “Let me know when you see one, then.”He reached for something - a magazine, as it turns out - and threw it on Yuuri’s face. “Catch,” he said belatedly.

Yuuri grabbed the glossy cover, eyes darting from the cover page model to the little subheadings dotted around the page. “What’s this?” he asked. “I’m not as fluent in English as you are. Not yet, anyway.”

“Yuuko and I thought you needed some cheering up, so we got you this.” He pointed at the magazine title, the only writing in big, bold, gaudy letters. “It says Sports Illustrated. There’s a piece inside about the upcoming skating season, and I think about next year’s Winter Olympics as well. I can’t say much about it though, you’ll have to ask Yuuko for details tomorrow at school. She wouldn’t let me see anything before she was finished reading everything.”

The magazine was several pages thick, filled with tiny English writing. “Everything?” Yuuri asked in fear. In his mind’s eye, he could picture Yuuko keeping Takeshi at arm’s length while she read the glossy magazine.

“Everything.” Takeshi nodded solemnly. “We actually bought this magazine two days ago.”

“It took her two days to read everything?”

“Better than the two years you’d need, Yuuri!”

Yuuri snorted as he flicked through the magazine. Takeshi was right, of course. “Goodnight,” he said, finally putting the magazine down beside him on the floor. As Takeshi turned all the lights off and all that was left was the moon streaming through the cracks in the curtains, Yuuri felt tears gathering in his eyes. He was incredibly lucky, he thought, to have such good friends. “Thank you, Takeshi-kun,” he whispered, not daring to break the stillness of the dark.

Takeshi responded with a loud snore.

(*·∀·*)人(*·∀·*)

In the end, Yuuri returned home on Tuesday night when Mari picked him up from school. She refused to let him go with Yuuko and Takeshi to Ice Castle for practice, stating that their parents were incredibly worried and wanted to see him in person. Mostly though, Mari was just tired of ferrying calls from Yuuko’s and Takeshi’s families regarding Yuuri’s wellbeing.

The two siblings took the long route back home, bypassing the shortcut Yuuri always took by the seafront, and instead meandering through streets with abandoned restaurants and stores. They ended up in a fair rundown Shinto shrine, snacking on some convenient store sushi (they were horrible and Yuuri can’t believe he let Mari convince him that they were even remotely delicious).

“Hasetsu is a dying economy.” Mari said, completely out of the blue. Yuuri choked on some dried seaweed, leftover from his last (and only) bite of sushi. “Have you not noticed how we’re one of the last onsen inns left in this town?”

“I always thought it was our good customer service,” Yuuri muttered. “And okaa-san’s katsudon.”

“No,” Mari sighed. “We come from old money, Yuuri. The inn is only surviving this long because of our old money. And the quality of our hot springs, I’ll give you that, but we wouldn’t have been able to maintain it to the standard we have if not for the old money.”

Yuuri wished Mari would stop saying old money. He watched as Mari played with an unlit cigarette that he knew she wanted to light up. She never would in his presence though; their parents prohibited her smoking if he was around. “He’s only nine,” their father reasoned, back when Mari started smoking, “and an aspiring athlete, too, if Minako can be believed.”

“You really shouldn’t be smoking in the inn, mari-nee,” Yuuri remembered their mother saying. “It bothers the foreign guests.”

But the foreign guests were few and far in between, Yuuri recalls. As for Japanese guests, he can only remember Hasetsu’s regulars, and he can’t remember the last time someone from the Tohoku or Kanto region every visiting - not even from the surrounding prefectures. Although, the winter season does attract people from the wider Saga prefecture.

“I guess I should thank the old money for everything we have,” said Yuuri. The surrounding air felt heavy, all of a sudden. “My own skates, my ballet lessons, that new car you have?”

“I bought that own car using my own salary from working at the inn,” frowned Mari. She nudged his leg with her foot. “And i know our parents would have done everything to support your skating, old money or not. It’s so important to you and we like making you happy.” Mari fished a lighter from somewhere and fiddled with it in her hands. “It’s what family does,” she says with finality.

Yuuri felt like she was trying to tell him something, and a sliver of dread crawls its way up his spine. “Mari-neechan,” he whispers. He couldn’t make his voice louder; his mouth was so dry. Mostly from the seaweed, but also from the fear. “You’ve always said you didn’t want to go to college but last year… I remember last year, otou-san talked with you. You were smoking in the living room!” She had ruined several decorative pillows with the stray ashes, Yuuri remembered clearly.

Mari laughed, reliving the memory as well. “Okaa-san kept giving me ashtrays every time she saw me indoors after that.”

“You applied to Kyushu University that same night. It was Sunday. You wouldn’t let me use the computer.”

“For some reason, I had it in my head that I couldn’t go to college because the family could not afford it. Not with the inn being the way it was and you with your skating. Otou-san corrected my thinking. He didn’t tell me everything of course - nothing about our family being a princely house and all that garbage. Just that I could go to college if I wanted to.” Yuuri watched as Mari gripped the cigarette and lighter tight in her hand. “And I really wanted to, Yuuri. I want to make Hasetsu successful again.”

Silence settled between the two siblings. In the distance, Yuuri could hear a child crying from one of the houses nearby.

“I don’t think I know what you’re trying to say, Mari-neechan,” Yuuri says eventually. Should he accept Yamamoto-san’s offer and willingly let himself be adopted into the Emperor’s immediate family for the betterment of Japan? Or should he not go gently into the night, kicking and screaming as he refused to let go of the Katsuki family name.

“I’m not trying to sway you on anything.” Mari paused, tilting her head to look at him. “Except maybe to think hard on what you really want to do. Not just for right now. I mean in the far future. The Emperor is a young enough man; he’s not going to die any time soon, you know.”

This time, Yuuri hears what his sister would not say out loud. That the Emperor is a healthy man with a long life ahead of himself. It was, potentially, a long enough life for Yuuri to enjoy a fulfilling skating career until possible retirement in his late twenties. He might even be able to do some ice shows for some years after, if the skating world was kind to him.

But then again, the world - skating or otherwise - was never really kind to anyone. Katsuki Yuuri was no exception.

“Come on,” Mari pressed the unlit cigarette against her lips. “Let’s head back home.”

(*·∀·*)人(*·∀·*)

Yuuri was not aware of how much he was missing home until he was settled in his own bedroom, wearing his own pyjamas, and listening to his mother retelling stories of her childhood. Mari was leaning against the doorway, her expression blank but Yuuri could tell that she enjoyed hearing about their mother’s girlhood days.

“I remember,” Hiroko says, folding one of Yuuri’s blankets into submission, “when I turned twenty, my grandmother took me out to dinner. I was so excited because I rarely get the chance to spend time with her, you see. The new year was approaching as well, and I remember being to excited because _Seijin no Hi_ was coming up and I had a sneaking suspicion that Obaa-san was going to give me my very own kimono. All my classmates were excited for _Seijin no Hi_ , and Minako-senpai was so very kind when she offered to do my hair and makeup.

“Obaa-san and I had a lovely time together, and once dinner was over she signalled for one of the waiters to come over and,” Hiroko flicked her arm, imitating what her grandmother did all those years ago; it made both Mari and Yuuri smile, “this waiter comes over. He was carrying a large box, big enough to hold a kimono.”

“Obi and all?” Yuuri asked. He felt like a child again, listening to his parents telling him bedtime stories.

His mother nodded. “Yes, obi and zori and all. When I opened the box, however, I saw that the kimono inside wasn’t new. It didn’t have the bright new patterns that the kimonos that year had. It didn’t even look like the kimono Minako-senpai wore when she herself turned twenty. I remember wanting to cry and furiously hiding the fact from Obaa-san. As it turns out, the kimono was her great-great-grandmother’s, passed down through the generations from one female Katsuki to another.” Hiroko turned to Mari, a wistful smile playing on her lips. “I know a dainty silk kimono isn’t your style, Mari-nee, but you would love this one. It was so very beautiful, and grand, and when I wore it to the local shrine here in Hasetsu, I remember thinking to myself how I looked like a princess.”

“I don’t want to look like a princess, okaa-san,” grumbled Mari, but both Yuuri and Hiroko knew that it was only for show. Mari, like all Japanese women, looked forward to the second Monday of January for the Coming of Age Day. It didn’t matter that she was the least overly feminine nineteen year old to ever turn twenty; Mari would put on that family kimono and march into a shrine and pray for good health or good grades or even a good journey back to the inn.

“Where is this kimono?” Yuuri asked. “Will you give it to Mari when it’s her turn next January?”

From the doorway, Mari groaned and hid her face in her hands. Hiroko only laughed, and explained how the kimono is kept in a special storage facility. “It’s a very old, very special kimono. And I hope, once you or Mari are grown and have families of your own, this kimono would be passed down to your daughters to use on their own Coming of Age Day.”

“Okaa-san!” both Mari and Yuuri cried in embarrassment. Neither of the two siblings wanted to think about having children, even if the idea was meant for their future selves.

As Mari and their mother began bickering about the next generation of Katsukis, Yuuri dove deeper inside the warmth of his bed. He really was glad to be back home, though he did not regret his decisions in the past week. He had thought more about Yamamoto-san’s offer, about Minako-sensei’s instruction to think beyond himself, and about Mari’s not-so-subtle hint to consider what he can get out of this whole debacle.

“Okaa-san,” Yuuri calls to his mother, somehow in the middle of pinching Mari’s cheeks and was cooing about how much she had grown. “I think I need to talk to Yamamoto-san. I want to apologize for my behaviour, at the very least.”

Yuuri watches as his mother lets go of Mari’s cheeks. She pats it gently as she shoos her off to her own bedroom. “Of course, Yuuri-kun,” she says. She stares at him a little bit, perhaps gauging his state of mind or just simply thinking how much he had grown or some nonsense like that. “Sleep well, my dear.”

“Thank you, okaa-san. You too.”

Yuuri didn’t know if it was his childhood bedroom or if it was the past hour of his mother recounting family stories, but he slept like a baby that night. He woke up with drool dribbling down his chin and into his pillow, but wow did he sleep so well. He felt ready to argue his case to Yamamoto-san. He might be signing off the rest of his life to be Japan’s crown prince, but he will go down fighting for what he wanted his life to be beyond becoming royalty.

“I want a legitimate, ISU-qualified skating coach who can work with Minako-sensei to create a diet and cross-training plan that will eventually make me a national champion,” he tells Yamamoto-san the next time they see each other. “I’ll only consent to this adoption as long as I get a bonafide skating coach.”

Yamamoto-san pursed her lips. Yet like before, Yuuri could see the smile in her eyes. He watched intently, heartbeat pounding in his ears, as she offered her hand for him to shake. This didn’t feel like traditional negotiation etiquette, but he grasped her thin hands in his own sweaty one.

“Terms considered and agreed.” Yamamoto-san shook their hands once and then let go. “But before I leave to tell the Emperor the good news, explain to me this one thing…"

“Anything, Yamamoto-san.”

“What is the ISU?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did not intend for this chapter to become as angsty as it had become


	3. the one where princely lessons are supposed to be a thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve been doing some research into the Imperial Household Agency and wow do these guys know how to party (this is a blatant lie the IHA control everything in japan and now i’m really scared of even writing this fic just in case they knock down my door and arrest me or something)
> 
> also, for some reason i was under the impression that Hasetsu was in fukuoka prefecture? but nah it's in the saga prefecture so my bad
> 
> also x2, my timeline for this fic is a mess and i have no idea how the figure skating season works so forgive me as i figure out how to handle things
> 
> lastly, three cheers for jiang for reading over this chapter! i can't seem to figure out which tense to use so pls give them a cheer or cookies or something ^L^

Yamamoto-san was true to her word. The week after Yuuri agreed to the Emperor’s proposal of adoption, a JSF-sanctioned coach arrived in the sleepy town of Hasetsu. The relative warm weather of spring came along with him, making the sleepy castle town livelier. It certainly impressed Yuuri’s new coach, or perhaps that might have been the brand new house that the Imperial Household Agency must have given to him.

“No one moves to Hasetsu without some kind of incentive,” Minako-sensei told Yuuri once. He must have been seven or eight years old, all baby pudge and determination as he practiced by the barre.

Where Minako-sensei looked so much younger than his mother, Coach Sato was a man who looked to be Yuuri’s father’s age; the wrinkles around his eyes indicated a life of laughter, but the strict line of his lips told Yuuri that this man could lead a wayward army if given the chance. When Yuuri first met the man, he was still in his pyjamas, the prospect of breakfast had tempted him before he could dress for the day.

“You will wake up as the sun rises to run the town’s perimeter,” Coach Sato said once introductions were made. “After that, you will meet me at the gym to work on building your strength. You will attend school when required, but once that bell rings signalling the end of the school day, you will have two hours to do as you please - take a nap, do your homework, socialise with your friends, what have you. Once those two hours are up, you will go to Minako’s ballet studio for practice and after the sun sets, you will be with me on the ice to work on your programs.”

Coach Sato looked Yuuri in the eyes, his expression unreadable. He was asking if Yuuri was ready for this kind of commitment. Yuuri responded with a single, sharp nod. “I wish to compete in national competitions, Coach Sato. Please take care of me so that I can stand on the podium and make my family proud.”

“Young man,” the coach rumbled, “you will do more than just make your family proud. You may be Japan’s prince-to-be, but, with ice skating, I will turn you into something that the ordinary people of this country would be proud of. I will make you into Japan’s Ace.”

“Japan’s Ace?” Yuuri gaped. That didn’t sound like what he wanted, but then again it didn’t sound like something he would hate either.

“It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? All that sibilance?”

The months pass in a flurry of exercise and, much to Yuuri’s chagrin, junior high school graduation. Coach Sato refused to lighten up his exercise regime, and Yuuri, in turn, refused to show any weaknesses. He spent the two hours he had after school studying with Yuuko and Takeshi - because they were older than Yuuri, they had plenty of advice about what to expect from the exams, which helped tremendously with his nerves. Once school was finished, Yuuri had cram school to deal with, so his schedule didn’t change that much, except he had more time in the afternoon to skate and practice his programs.

Little by little, Yuuri noticed the changes to his body as he continued with Coach Sato’s instructions. Not only did his jumps improve (they were only doubles at this stage, but Yuuri was hopeful to advance into triples soon enough), but his strength and stamina were getting better as well. He swore that he was starting to develop washboard abs, but he couldn’t really confirm since he wasn’t able to spend too much time in front of a mirror without blushing up a storm.

“You need more height on your saut de basques, Yuuri,” Minako-sensei admonished him one morning. It was an uncharacteristically rainy day in Hasetsu and Coach Sato - he does have a heart after all! - excused Yuuri from his morning run and allowed him to choose: either extra ballet practice with Minako, or jumps practice with him. Suffice to say, Yuuri chose to hang out with Minako.

“I’ll try it again,” Yuuri said between huffs of breath.

“Of course your form is perfect, as per usual. Let’s take a break, Yuuri-kun.” Minako signaled for Yuuri to relax and hands him a bottle water. “Tell me, how is your skating coming along?”

Yuuri snorted out a laugh. “It’s funny you should ask,” he said, fiddling with the water bottle’s plastic cover. “Coach Sato says my jumps need more height, too. My spins are the best they could be, though, and apparently if I continue with the rate I’m going, I can be ready for regional competitions next month.”

“I think you’ve been ready for competitions since last February before Coach Sato came along,” teased Minako. “But what do I know, really? I’m just a ballet teacher.”

“A ballet teacher with a Benois de la Danse,” corrected Yuuri. “You also helped choreograph both my short program and my free skate. Really, sensei, there’s nothing you can’t do.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Minako smiled, “I really wasn’t fishing for compliments, but thank you all the same. Anyway, would you like me to come with you to your first competition? Sato-san might be a terrifyingly competent coach, but I doubt he can help you with your hair and makeup.”

“I don’t know…” Yuuri chewed on his bottom lip. “I think Coach Sato will surprise you. Either way, you’re welcome to come with us! Okaa-san, otou-san can’t go because of the inn, and Mari can’t go either because she’s starting college around the same time, but Yuuko definitely is planning to go and I think she’s taking Takeshi with her.”

“Sounds like a party,” Minako cheered. “I’ll be sure to bring a banner!”

(*・∀・*)人(*・∀・*)

Weeks pass and, before Yuuri could even begin to panic about his very first competition, the anticipated event came rolling by. He had been so busy studying for (and acing!) the high school entrance exams as well as practicing his skating routines that he barely had free time to pay his worries any attention. Yuuri won third place in the regional competition, surprising most of the skating community since, up to that point, no one knew who Katsuki Yuuri was. His friends and family were not surprised at all, except for perhaps Coach Sato since he had expected Yuuri to win second place at the very least.

“When we get back to Hasetsu, we’re going to start on refining your step sequences,” he tells Yuuri the second he stepped off the ice after his free skate. Minako, overhearing this, elbowed the man and shoved a placard screaming “Katsuki Yuuri #1” into his hands. Yuuri cold only smile at both his teachers’ shenanigans.

The trip back to Hasetsu was a lark, Yuuri thought, as the entire party - Minako, Coach Sato, Yuuko, Takeshi, and himself - took up one little section of the train car and made it into their temporary home. Their discussions encompassed Yuuri’s third place win, his upcoming sectional competition, the fit of his skates as he seems to be outgrowing his current ones, as well as his atrocious skating outfit.

“As it turns out,” Yuuko told Takeshi in sotto voce to avoid offending their friend, “there is such a thing as too many sequins.”

“I don’t understand how you can’t change the design if you’re having your costumes remade to accommodate your growth spurt,” Yuuko asked Yuuri, this time in her normal tone of voice. The train was slowly entering the Hasetsu station platform, and they were all gathering their stuff as they prepared to disembark.

“Yuuri needs to remain consistent throughout the season, Yuu-chan,” Coach answered in Yuuri’s behalf. “The only thing he needs to change is his execution of the double lutz! Oh, but you spins could use some more flair and as I’ve mentioned before, your step sequences could use more work…”

Yuuri laughed, prompting everyone else to laugh as well, finding humour in the situation. Months into working with Coach Sato,Yuuri was coming to learn that while the man was as strict as can be regarding schedules, he knew exactly when Yuuri needed a break. He knew when to push Yuuri to his limits, but also when to take a step back and to allow him to breathe. Minako might not agree with his assessments of the situation sometimes, but somehow the two made it work. They both loved Yuuri and wanted him to succeed, that much was obvious.

Minako offered to drive everyone else back to their homes once they arrived at Hasetsu train station, but both Yuuko and Takeshi declined, claiming that they preferred to walk since it was such a nice night out. The pair weren’t quite out of the group’s line of sight before they began holding hands.

“I have a feeling that those two are dating,” Yuuri commented as he, Coach Sato, and Minako climbed into the car.

Minako hummed. “I may have that very same feeling, Yuuri. Now, put your seatbelt on. The sooner we leave the sooner we can have some of your mother’s wonderful katsudon.”

“Ah, Hiroko-san’s famous dish,” said Coach Sato from the front seat. “Do you think she made enough for second servings?”

(*・∀・*)人(*・∀・*)

A hearty meal of katsudon and some congratulatory sake for the adults later, Yuuri drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face. He would have had a wonderful night’s sleep, completely deserved after his performance at the regional competition, but unfortunately he woke up to his parents knocking on his bedroom door.

“Okaa-san, otou-san,” he greeted through a yawn, “good morning.”

“Good morning, dear. We’re sorry to wake you,” Hiroko says as she walked into the room and settled on Yuuri’s bed, “but your father and I needed to talk to you.”

Toshiya followed his wife’s example and entered the room, but instead of sitting on the bed he chose to use Yuuri’s desk chair. “This came in the mail for you, son,” he says, handing Yuuri an A4 sized letter.

Yuuri accepted the letter and felt what he assumed were magazines inside. “I don’t recognise this logo,” he says, noticing the insignia on the back of the envelope. A shiver ran down his spine. “It looks official. Are these my adoption papers?”

“Goodness, no,” reassured his mother. “Your adoption was processed and completed some time ago. We would have told you sooner, of course, but we did not want to tear your focus away from your skating.”

“Okaa-san,” Yuuri whispered. He saw the tears gathering in his mother’s eyes, but he didn’t know what to say to comfort her. Instead, he kicks off his blankets, sits up, and opens his arms up for a hug. He felt like a child again, asking to be carried. He blinks away his own tears as he looks towards his father.

“It’s all right, dear,” his mother coos. “You’re father and I are all right. We’re hoping that you are, too. We know we haven’t talked about this at all, but we do want  you to be comfortable throughout this entire process. You are still our son, Yuuri. You’re still our baby boy.”

“Our baby boy,” Toshiya interrupts, a wry tone lining the wet quality of his voice, “who happens to be going to high school next month. The letter, Yuuri…” he gestures for Yuuri to open it, “it’s from a school. A very good school, in fact, if what Yamamoto-san says is true.”

“Otou-san,” Yuuri wheezed. The relief he felt from realizing that the letter weren’t his adoption papers dissipated. Something pressed heavily into his chest, and it was making him dizzy from the lack of air. “This isn’t one of the high schools I applied to?” He didn’t recognise the name and address branded on the envelope.

“Yamamoto-san applied on your behalf. She said something about the crown prince of Japan requiring proper, princely knowledge and etiquette, and that this school will help with all of that.”

Yuuri reads through the letter once more, his eyes seeing but not quite processing the words ‘acceptance’ and ‘privilege’ and, the most important word of all, ‘boarding school’. Well, that was two words, but the gravity of the situation was all the same. Yuuri didn’t want to leave Hasetsu. In fact, he didn’t even want to leave the Saga prefecture, let alone the entire island of _Kyushu_.

“This school is all the way in Osaka.” Yuuri grabbed the prospectus that came with the letter and hastily flicked through it. All the students featured inside were dressed in light blue blazers that proudly displayed what Yuuri could only assume was the school logo. “Aside from the national curriculum,” he read out loud, “students can take electives in classics, ethics, ancient languages, modern languages, and horseback riding?! What is this school?”

“Get a grip on yourself, Yuuri-kun” chided his father. “I’m sure Yamamoto-san will not be expecting you to take all those classes.”

From her seat on the bed, Yuuri’s mother made a small noise, making the other two look at her. She fidgeted under their gazes, and slowly but surely the realisation that _yes, Yamamoto-san is expecting Yuuri to take all these extra classes_ sank into Yuuri’s consciousness. He gripped the school prospectus like a lifeline - anything to grab onto as a ringing began to sound in his ears and he began to feel more lightheaded.

“Okaa-san, you can’t be serious.”

“You are now the Crown Prince, my son,” she said gently. “You require an Imperial education if you are to be Emperor one day, and Yamamoto-san is being kind by allowing you to go to this school instead of one of the Gakushuin schools that the Emperor himself attended when he was your age. It might not seem like it now, but you’ll be guaranteed more free time this way.”

Yuuri’s grip of the school prospectus was bordering on painful; the cover pages were digging deep into his skin. “What about my skating? Okaa-san, what about my friends? Yuuko and Takeshi—”

“—will not forget you even if you move all the way to Osaka, Yuuri.” Hiroko raised her hand to Yuuri’s head and began fussing with his hair, unimpressed with the mess that sleep has made it into. “I’m sure they will make time to visit you, and of course you will always be welcome here in Hasetsu. You’re not moving away for good.”

“You say that now,” grumbled Yuuri, “but soon enough Yamamoto-san will be shipping me off to Siberia to study some ancient art in ruling a country, and I won’t probably be able to come back until I’m supposed to ascend the Chrysanthemum Throne.”

“Everything will be okay, Yuuri-kun,” soothed this mother. She patted him gently on the cheek. “Everything will be okay.”

Yuuri wished, deep inside his heart of hearts, that his mother was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all liked this one! i don't know if it's obvious or not, but it's been a while since i've been a part of the writing side of fandom so idk what to do with all your kind words/comments/support. i'm absolutely floored, if that isn't clear enough. would you all like me to reply to each one or just do a general announcement for each chapter or ??? (really, these are the things that keeps me up at night)

**Author's Note:**

> edit: fixed some unfortunate spelling and continuity mistakes. i'll be doing this continually whenever i post.
> 
> follow me on tumblr y'all 525-thousand.tumblr.com (^▽^)


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